It’s quiet tonight.
Most of the nights before this, Nat had trouble sleeping. For the past weeks, all she heard was everyone talking about Coach Scott. Most of the time before that her thoughts were too loud for her to get some rest. Now, after their feast, after stabbing him, after carving him for them— for Shauna— everyone is quiet, full and satisfied with their meal. Her mind has gone blank. It’s like she’d lost the ability to think. She stares at the spot where she spared him. There’s still remains of the food he left to rot and the food they forced down his throat. She would feel sick if she could feel anything at all right now.
“Nat?”
She flinches and turns her head at the soft whisper. Doe eyes look at her, a faint shine from the reflection of her torch. Nat rolls her eyes and turns her head back. She can’t deal with any sort of conversation right now. With the lack of a follow-up, Nat thinks she’s thankfully left alone. She inhales sharply when the straw and grass ruffle beside her.
“Leave me alone, Lottie.”
Lottie doesn’t budge beside her. They both sit on the ground with a more-than-acceptable distance between them. Nat could complain, but the minutes of silence actually aren't unpleasant. She knows why Lottie is here, especially with the fact that she isn’t trying to speak with her.
“I don’t need it,” she says defensively. From the corner of her eye, she sees Lottie turn to face her. She doesn’t meet her eye. “I don’t need your pity.”
”I don’t pity you, Natalie,” Lottie says, though it’s not unkind. It’s just plain and straightforward. Nat finally looks at her and she sees a small, gentle smile on her face.
She returns it with a scowl. “Fuck off.”
Lottie shrugs. “I really don’t.“
Natalie huffs out a breath and rises to her feet. She waits for a beat before Lottie follows her. They stand face to face. “Then what do you want from me, Lottie?”
She shakes her head, and Nat can see the sincerity in her face. It’s come to annoy her. Everything she does is out of sincerity, even if it doesn’t come across that way. She just doesn’t understand her. “Nothing,” Lottie says, and it annoys Natalie more.
“Then why?” Nat whispers, but it comes out harsh. She feels a tear starting to pool in her eye. “Why did you make me the fucking leader only to pass it to Shauna? Why now?”
“The wilderness—“
“That’s bullshit, Lottie!” She shouts quietly, still aware that the others are sleeping nearby. “Why are you doing this? Why are you even here? What, are you gonna ask me to ‘let it out‘? Because I have a lot of fucking anger?” Nat chuckles bitterly, shaking her head.
It looks like it’s something Lottie hadn’t even been considering, but she tilts her head at the thought. “… Do you want to?”
Nat scoffs. She stares up at her in disbelief. She can feel everything bubbling up inside her— the anger, the guilt, the sadness, the bile, what she has left of Coach Scott— and then she shoves her. It’s not enough to knock her down, but Lottie staggers a little. When the initial shock subsides, she plants her feet on the ground. Natalie lets herself feel angrier. She shoves her again, and she looks up at Lottie to see her reaction.
“Why the fuck does everyone just follow you around?” Lottie’s face remains unmoving. The dam finally breaks and Natalie starts crying, even when she goes to shove her again. “This whole ’leader’ bullshit doesn’t make sense!”
Each shove gets weaker, making Lottie step back inch by inch. Natalie looks at her and even in the dark she sees the slight change in her expression. It’s like she’d just realized something. At this point, she doesn’t care. She sobs, and the pathetic push she gives Lottie doesn’t even do anything anymore. She doesn’t anticipate the next thing that happens. It’s dreamlike, in the literal sense, like opening the door to your shitty trailer and walking in to find yourself at some cult compound. One moment she’s shoving Lottie, the next she can’t move her arms. Lottie has her in a tight embrace. Her eyes are open wide as more tears stream down her face. A confused, pained cry leaves her lips.
“Why?” She whispers between sobs. Her legs feel like jelly, and she feels her entire weight drop, but Lottie holds her firmly. “None of this is making sense. I just don’t understand what the fuck is happening, Lottie. Why is this happening?”
“I don’t know,” Lottie whispers, her breath hitching in her throat. “I’m sorry, Nat. I don’t know.”
Natalie just keeps on crying. The hug finally sinks in. She hadn’t felt this comfort in so long that it feels fake, and she raises her hands and clings onto Lottie’s dress to ground herself. It’s the answer to some of her questions, at least, but she never wanted to hear Lottie say it herself. The thought of Lottie saying she cares about her makes her cringe. It makes her want to crawl inside of herself. But the feeling of being cared for by Lottie is entirely different. She buries her face in her shoulder, not caring that she’d stain her skin with tears and snot. It doesn’t deter Lottie. She feels her hug tighter, as if to make her believe that this is real. Maybe Lottie needs it as much as Nat does, but she doesn’t care enough to think of it too much.
The rest of the night goes by on autopilot. Natalie doesn’t remember how she got back to her hut. When she wakes up the next morning, she convinces herself that it was just some weird lucid dream brought by fatigue. But when she sees Lottie after months of barely speaking to each other and she gives her that small, gentle, familiar smile, she knows otherwise.